Hellstinger

9. Unreal... definitely real.

'When darkness looms, he shall stand tall. When woe beacons, he must prevail...'

"OH MY GOD!" Marcus sat up in one move, heart racing, and terror-stricken as he looked from left to right in search of the horrors of his nightmare.

"Wha...wher...re...!" He pants, taking in his surroundings in a bid to identify and coordinate himself.

"Where on earth am I?"

The first thing he noticed was the chill of the room as goosebumps dot his skin, but the first thing that caught his eye was the man-sized portrait that seemed to be staring straight at him in a small sitting area in the far corner.

'Have...? Do I know...?' He couldn't seem to form any complete thought as he rid himself of the plain white duvet covering his bottom half. Stepping out of bed, the fur rugs sucked his feet in and compensated for the room's chill.

Marcus couldn't take his eyes off the portrait as he took tentative steps towards the sitting area. He didn't notice when the fluffy fur rugs ended and cold tiled flooring started, neither did he notice the two-settee and one-settee brown leather couches arranged in an L-shape, and he didn't notice the plain glass coffee table situated before them.

All he could do was drown in the portrait's graze. But it wasn't the elegance of the portrait that made Marcus drawn to it, neither is it the extravagance of its gold-plated frame.

And the man it; a regal man, clad in an ash/white striped formal suit with a red dotted tie. The portrait was taken in a casual and relaxed pose, but the man wasn't casual and relaxed. He looked middle-aged, but his gray hair said otherwise. His eyes are a gleaming blue hue that tells the story of legends.

None of these things captivated Marcus as he stood before the portrait. It was the sense of recognition, as though in remembrance, that hooked Marcus. And he couldn't take his eyes off the man until the squeak of the door demanded his attention;

"Marcu..."

"Lexy!" Marcus practically teleported to Alexander's side and threw himself on her slender - yet strong - frame. "Oh, Lexy you have no idea how nasty my nightmare was."

"Y-you will strangle me before you tell me." Alexander groaned under Marcus' squeeze, struggling to inhale as he rocked her left to right.

"Come on now," She said, lightly taping his shoulders; "if you don't let go, I can't listen to this nightmare that got you all riled up."

"Oh, you have no idea!" Marcus laughed, pulling her to sit on the one-settee couch.

"First," Marcus said, clearing his throat, and shifting from leg to leg. "You suddenly, uncharacteristically, agreed to a detour to Phoenix for an impromptu show."

"Oh really!?" Alexander said with mock interest and a raised eyebrow. "That doesn't sound so bad, does it?"

"I know right?" Marcus said, "But then we got to the airport and the next thing BOOM! Everything changed into a hellscape scene from Hellboy."

"Everything?"

"Yes," Marcus said, already paving three steps back and forth. "And then a woman appeared in the van. She was so real I could have sworn she was real. Tyen I started hallucinating and recollecting memories that aren't mine. And then I got drunk. And then I stepped out of a mirror and tore myself up..."

He trailed off; "...my God, it was a horrible sight." He paused, reliving the horror of watching himself being torn from the inside out.

"Hm." Alexander let out a patient sigh as she watched Marcus desperately trying to convince himself that his disturbing experience was just a nightmare.

"But that wasn't the end."

"Oh really?" She said.

"Oh no, it isn't," Marcus said, resuming his pace. "There was this nasty Old man and I think he broke my mind and...and...urm...well, I found myself in a forest."

"There was a really cool bow with a stream of glowing weather that defies the laws of physics and...and chemistry and Mathematics and everything." He paused to swallow, "and I saw a six-legged horse...I mean beast, then I..."

"Marcus!" Alexander said, "You should probably look in the mirror."

"Wha...what, why?"

"Just take a look." Marcus frowned. He had just told her his most troubling experience and all she has to say is; 'go look in the mirror.'

Grudgingly, Marcus obliged and crossed the room to face the dressing table beside the bed. He paused. Of course, he is seeing himself, but something is different and the mirror isn't very clear.

He rushed to the dressing room, just a few meters from the dressing table, to properly check himself out in the seven-foot-long four-foot-wide mirror;

"LEXY!" Marcus cried in a high-pitched voice, "Oh my God, oh my...oh my God Lexy I have bruises and cuts. I have bruises and cuts everywhere on my body; I've got bruises and cuts!"

Marcus couldn't think of any justification for his bruises as he frantically checked himself out; the bruises on his chest that came from climbing, and the cuts and scratches on his torso, arms, and face were beyond anything he had ever had.

"Oh my God!" He kept on turning himself every which way, patting himself for any more scar-potential wounds when Alexander walked in and leaned on the door frame.

"Oh my God Lexy, what do I do? I can't take my shirt off on stage with a body like this! What am I..."

"You are missing the point, Marcus." Alexander cut him off his frantic faze, "Look at the mirror and see yourself, not your skin."

Marcus blinked twice, not really understanding what Alexander had said; he did as told anyway. Looking at himself, Marcus stood dumbfounded and frozen in his observance. Marcus saw what Alexander had wanted him to see; he had changed. He is still Marcus in every sense of the name, but not the Marcus he should be seeing.

His cropped charcoal-black hair had grown a length longer and is now heavily riddled with gray. On the corners of his eyes are a faded teardrop tattoo, and his eyes... His eyes are no longer the hazelnut beauty they used to be, they are now a pair of gleaming turquoise hue. On closer inspection, Marcus could see an intricate inscription embedded inside his pupils like a tattoo.

"I..." Marcus touched his hair and ran his fingers over the teardrop tattoo on his right eye. "What happened...? How did...?"

"Look out the window," Marcus turned to look at Alexander's serious expression. Not the threatening kind of serious nor the unyielding kind of serious. It was the kind of serious expression that says;

'You need to figure it out yourself.'

Marcus couldn't guess what he would see if he looked out the floor-to-ceiling window drapes in a brown curtain made of a dull material that outlines the off-white paint of the walls. And when he cast the drapes aside;

"OHH...AR...!" Marcus jumped back and fell on his buttocks with an agility he didn't know he possessed on seeing the four-eyed face of a six-legged beast. "Ohh, my God! Oh-holy shit!"

The Fra'r neighed, shaking its head, and taking several steps back as though in understanding of Marcus' fear.

"Holy shit it's a Fra'r," Marcus said, jumping to his feet and backing away two, three, steps. "There's a freaking Fra'r...wait..."

It dawned on him;

"It's all real."

Marcus felt Alexander's comforting hand on his shoulder, and said; "as much as I tried to ignore and push back, everything that you experienced was all real."

Of course, it was. Deep down, Marcus knew it was but he was so ready to believe it was all a bad dream, so much so that the realization that it was indeed real doubled the effects.

"Then," He said, taking a seat on the plush purple bed foot cushion, "everything I saw was also real. The demons, the deaths, the bows; it was all real."

"I should have prepared you for this," Alexander said. "It was the highlight of my job, and I'm sorry."

"One more thing is real though," She said kneeling before Marcus with a smile, trying to help him get over the dark side of his realization. "We are in Phoenix, your parent's manor to be precise."

Marcus looked up and his eyes went straight to the portrait; now he could see the resemblance - his father. A smile threatened his expression, but the looming darkness in the destiny the Old man had shown him couldn't allow him to smile;

"You are home, Marc C Hellstinger," Alexander said, patting his shoulder. "You are finally home."

******************************************************

Let me tell you the Hellstinger story;

Long long b fire the time of man, demon hordes conquered the Earth under the rule of the demon god, Romulus.

Then the son of man rose in battle and defeated the demons, sending them back to the Ether life where they came. But that wasn't the end. While Romulus couldn't cross from his own plane of existence - The Ether life - to the mortal plane, he was able to send his minions to prepare for his return.

Then the son of man diversed the perfect warrior, the Hellstingers, and for generations to come, the Hellstingers protected the primordial portal that Romulus to cross to the Mortal plane. And they were effective until Romulus found a way to kill Hellstingers even before they are born.

With the last of the Hellstingers dead on the rocks of Phoenix, only one can stand the might of the demon god.